Obsolete
by RinnyEjito12
Summary: When he had fallen, they would succeed. He couldn't get ahead of himself however, because it was his story for now. Their own would come in time, and all he could do was take it in stride and fight as hard as he could. :Pairings to be decided, Characters to be decided:


_Simply because I really want to go back inside._

* * *

Loud chanting rang through the corridors of the ornate palace, its walls of ivory, illuminated by the flames held tight by the people below them. The people dressed in rags, equipped with weapons forged by everyday household objects, and farming tools. Yelling at the inhabitants of the beautiful tall palace to listens to their demands.

Looking down on the masses of infuriated people was a pair of golden eyes. Tanned skin and long silvery hair dressed up, and a single red strand flowing down her face, wrinkled in disgust. The circlet pressed against her forehead gleamed manically as if irritated by the pathetic display.

How utterly revolting, for that filth to even step foot on her beautiful castle grounds…

Luckily, her castle guards and slaves could make do of them shortly.

_**:CASTLE DRAGO:  
Unknown Timeline**__**  
Palace Dungeons: 6**__**th**__** floor**_

The lifeless form in chains was almost unrecognizable as a man. The cold unforgiving metal around his neck made it hard to do anything other than peer downward, so he did, in the slump he was positioned in. His arms were dishearteningly limp on either side of him, unmoving, while his legs were just pressed together, his back arched against the gray brick wall to which he was chained. Golden eyes had lost their fire long ago, and the deep red hair matted to his head, coated in dirt, dried blood and sweat.

If he tried to move his head, he could catch glimpses of the garnet glow of the crowds below.

It filled him with a sort of bitter-tasting déjà vu. His stomach dropped and he felt the bile prickle at the back of his throat when he remembered the horrid fates of the ones around him once upon a time. Now he was alone and the deafening screams rang in his ears as his hand absentmindedly picked up the dried blood on the floor.

He nearly laughed at the thought of how, probably right now, below him, nobles were scurrying about, confused and afraid. This revolt was out of nowhere and the city was burning and how on earth are we going to stop it? The peasantry was out for blood, and one wrong step could turn this revolt into a revolution.

The pompous faces of the court could never say that aloud in front of their empress of course. The man in chains pressed the back of his head on the brick wall behind him while he wondered who those cowards were more afraid, the yelling rag-tag revolt below, or the wrath of their empress.

But the nobles were dead wrong.

This wasn't a revolution, not even close.

He kept a strong face, refused to let the tired, pained feature of his filthy face contort and drop the smug smile he kept on. It was all he had left to defy the tyrant that imprisoned him.

He had lost his voice long ago, and he pushed the bile back when he remembered how words became weapons, as he had been told before. If he could, he'd yell down to the people below him, because they were in the right.

If he could, he would yell until his already hoarse voice cracked and fell to only a whisper.

No, it was not a revolt. It wasn't a revolution.

It was simply _her end_.

Where the nobles would squirm and speak to their empress on how the guards would end it quickly and how her rule would continue when she sneered at them all, he could never bring himself to think such lies. In the deepest part of him, he could sense it. She would fall.

She had to.

Where he had failed, he knew it inside him that they would succeed.

* * *

_Oh… Wow. It seems I'm not completely dead yet._

**_TAKE THAT, SUCKERS!_**

_I guess I should explain this… at least a little bit._

_John has been pushing me to do a sort of revolution-driven story. He's been all up and in my business about it. Today, after our usual chat online, he surprised me by coming over and locking me outside with his laptop until I got a first part done._

_So, I pulled this out. Look it. Look how bad it is!_

_Chaos, don't kill me! DX_

_Another drive in this story is ancestors. Mostly, the ancestors of our favorite characters of Metal Fight Beyblade. Especially, *points up* this guy._

_I might add in ancestors of a Fan Character or two, but unless certain circumstances arise, they won't play big parts._

_Word of Rinny: (Hehe, play off of 'Word of God' in TV Tropes)_

_-Every character has an ancestor. **Every one.**_

_-If certain ancestors hook up, (*coughKyouyaandMadokaCOUGH*) it doesn't mean anything to the timeline we all know. Chances are, they won't even make babies, so **PFFFTTTTT.**_


End file.
